


The Affair

by Mr_Customs_Man



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5231510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Customs_Man/pseuds/Mr_Customs_Man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a small room, blocked off from the rest of the clinic, Anders and Sebastian have made a space just for them. Theirs is a hidden affair, the pious Chantry brother and the renegade apostate, and no one must ever know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Affair

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is as finished as it will ever be. I’ve been sitting on this thing for almost a year now, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never be able to work out an ending (or a middle, since this is really only the first part of what I had planned). Instead of letting the prompt labor away unfilled though, I decided to just post what I have and wash my hands of it. What you were supposed to get was plot with porn, instead all you got was the porn. Sorry!

Anders could admit that Sebastian was good-looking from a purely aesthetic point of view. Not that he found him attractive, per se. Sebastian was just too conventional for his tastes: smooth, unmarred skin, perfectly combed back hair, big blue eyes… he was like a fairy tale come to life. Anders preferred broken noses and laugh lines and crooked teeth. People who looked real, who had lived in this world and had the scars to prove it. Still, there was no denying that Sebastian was pretty, and if he ever learned to keep quiet Anders might just start to find his presence tolerable. But then he opened his mouth-

“I can’t believe anyone would willingly work here.”

His pretty face was the only thing keeping Anders from punching him. “They wouldn’t be here if they had a choice!”

“But they do have a choice. The Chantry provides services-”

Anders rolled his eyes. “Did the Chantry replace your brain with that mush they hand out? You can’t string two thoughts together without bringing up the blighted Chantry!”

A red flush spread across Sebastian’s cheeks and neck as he scowled up in anger at the mage. Anders couldn’t help but feel a jolt of thrill go through him at the sight. He loved riling Sebastian up, poking and prodding until he finally dropped the saintly choir boy act and fell down in the muck and dirt with the rest of them. What right did Sebastian have to live a life of privilege, to never know hunger or fear or pain, when so many were suffering because of the Chantry? It wasn’t right. That thought burned through Anders.

“The Chantry has helped to integrate and provide jobs for those refugees willing to accept our help,” Sebastian pointed out. “But if you refuse assistance simply because of the hand that offers it then you’ve got only yourself to blame.”

“Integrate. That’s such a nice, clean word for what really happens.”

“You’re so paranoid! You see malevolence where there is none!”

“And you’re content to bury your head in the sand!”

“Uh, guys?” Hawke asked, sticking his head out of the mine where he and Varric had already started to descend. “This is fascinating and all, but my workers are being eaten by giant spiders. Think we could get to that sometime today?”

“Of course, Hawke!” Sebastian replied, trotting after him. He looked so pleased.

Anders couldn’t help but roll his eyes again as he followed. “Of course, Hawke!” he mocked underneath his breath. Varric let out a laugh, which echoed off the cavern walls and caught Sebastian’s attention.

“What was that?” He asked.

“Don’t worry about it, Choir Boy.”

* * *

Hawke was the biggest baby Anders has ever met. He would push through a fight, beating down his opponents with waves upon waves of magic, never caring for his own safety. But once the fight was over? Suddenly a small cut that he took no notice of during the fight became unbearably painful and if the others weren’t sympathetic enough he would complain. Loudly.

So, Anders was happy to pass off babysitting duties to Sebastian while he rummaged around the clinic for bandages and elfroot. He figured Sebastian would jump at the chance to soothe Hawke’s ego, since arse-kissing seemed to be a particular talent of his, but apparently even the prince’s patience could run out. Anders couldn’t help but smile to himself as Sebastian attempted to placate Hawke’s childish pouting. “Yes, Hawke, it’s terrible,” came the half-bitten sigh. “I don’t know how you’ll ever recover from such a horrible wound.”

“Are you being sarcastic? That sounded sarcastic,” came Hawke’s voice.

“Of course not, Hawke. This is your hour of need. Shall I return to the Chantry and call for the Sacraments?”

A sudden, unexpected laugh broke through Anders’s mouth, before he quickly smothered it. He was surprised the man even knew what a joke was, that’s all. Anders straightened up, arms full of supplies. “I don’t have a lot of elfroot left, sorry, but this should be enough-”

“You shouldn’t have to waste your supplies on something so minor,” Sebastian broke in, ignoring Hawke’s unhappy squawk at the word ‘minor’. “The Chantry has plenty to give, they won’t notice if some elfroot goes missing. I’ll head there now.”

And then Sebastian was gone, leaving Anders alone with Hawke, who insisted on waving his “horribly mangled” arm in front of his face and whining.

By the time Sebastian returned, Hawke was about two minutes away from receiving a _real_ injury. In the prince’s arms was a box full of medicinal herbs, not just elfroot but spindleweed and black lotus and jars and jars of healing salves and potions. “What’s all this?” Anders demanded, suspicion thick in his voice.

“I thought you might need some extra things.” He smiled, so pretty and innocent.

“I don’t want Chantry cast offs,” Anders spat.

That smile that seemed permanently fixed to Sebastian’s face slipped and his eyes darkened. A jolt snaked down Anders’s spine, the same way it did right before a battle. “Of course, and I’m sure when your patients are lying here with broken bones and there’s not a single potion to spare, they’ll say, 'It’s a good thing you didn’t accept the Chantry’s charity. We don’t want cast-off potions.’” Sebastian slammed the crate on the table. “Do what you want with it. Hawke,” Sebastian nodded towards the man and Hawke waved goodbye with his 'injured’ arm.

“You know,” Hawke commented as Anders set to work bandaging his arm. “When someone makes a gesture of friendship, the polite thing to do would be to accept. Or, at least, not be such an arse about it.”

“If I wanted to hear more Chantry bullshit, I’d go back to the Circle.”

“You do realize,” Hawke spoke slowly, as though he was talking to a simple-minded child. “That I am a mage? An apostate, in fact. And yet, never once has Sebastian spouted 'Chantry bullshit’ at me. We’re actually pretty good friends. Why not give him a chance? He might surprise you.”

Anders didn’t say anything, but the next time Hawke took them along on an adventure he did turn to Sebastian and say, roughly with eyes averted, “Thanks for the supplies.”

He pretended not to notice the way Sebastian beamed at him.

* * *

It became a regular thing after that. About once a week Sebastian would stop by the clinic to drop off supplies, awkwardly make small talk, and then leave. Neither one mentioned The Thing. The Thing being Justice, of course. Sebastian had made his views on that quite clear and mentioning it was a sure-fire way to start an argument, something that both of them wanted to avoid lately. The looks of approval Hawke gave them was enough to make them try, at least. But it was like an itch Anders couldn’t scratch. Every time he looked at Sebastian, he wanted a fight. He wanted to see his face flush red and those blue eyes turn on him with fire and passion and…

And maybe it wasn’t an argument he was looking for.

Anders sat down heavily as the thought overtook him. The heat in his eyes was still there, but it was no longer anger that turned his bright blue eyes dark, but lust. Laid on his cot, pretty and sweet, trembling from all the terrible, ungodly things Anders would do to him if he had him.

The knock on his door nearly made him jump out of his skin. “Anders?” Sebastian’s voice called from outside. Great, just great. Anders took a deep, steadying breath as he made his way to the door, slightly hunched over in an attempt to hide his erection.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Sebastian said as he came in, his arms laden with medicine. “Sister Carmine got into the wine again.” He set it down on the table and began sorting through it, making idle small talk as he did, telling Anders all about the new initiates and a visiting Grand Cleric from Val Royeaux who had put up a fuss because there wasn’t enough room for her seventeen pugs. It was dull, just as dull and unchanging as Anders had always imagined a life in the Chantry would be, just as dull and unchanging as it was in the Circle, but Sebastian’s voice was melodious as it washed over him. He imagined what that voice would sound like in the dead of night, lust turning it into a thick rumble, need and want edging his words. “Anders?” Sebastian broke through. “Are you feeling alright? You look flushed.”

Before Anders could react, Sebastian reached out unthinkingly and placed his cool hand against the mage’s face. Sebastian frowned, opened his mouth to speak, and then looked down, his blue eyes growing comically wide as he realized just what exactly was tenting Anders’s robes like that. “Oh!” He said, but his hand didn’t pull away. He just stood there, his eyes riveted to the sight. “Oh!” He said again.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Anders grasped Sebastian’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his face, yanking his body close to him and pressing his mouth fiercely against his own. Sebastian didn’t struggle. He didn’t do much of anything but stare at Anders in wide-eyed shock. When the mage finally pulled away, Sebastian sucked in a deep breath. “Oh,” he whispered, much quieter this time. “I should go.”

Sebastian ran and all Anders could do was watch him leave.

* * *

Anders figured that would be the end of things. Sebastian wouldn’t be returning. Maybe he would bring the supplies to Hawke for delivery, if he bothered with it at all. He was working on his manifesto when the knock came, same as always. Sebastian cautiously peeked inside as Anders stood up, nearly knocking his chair back in his haste. The prince said nothing as he put the crate on the table, and then stood there, unsure of what to do, the space between them a no-man’s land.

“I’m not technically bound my vows any longer,” Sebastian began, his voice hesitant, fingers twisting the cuffs of his Chantry robes. “Elthina still hasn’t given me an answer on whether she will accept me back into the fold. I have to earn back her trust. I can’t make another mistake.”

Anders nodded. He had known, of course he had known, that this would never go anywhere.

Sebastian swallowed and this time his voice was stronger, clearer. More sure of himself. “I won’t start anything,” he said. “But I won’t stop it either.”

That was all the permission Anders needed.

In two long strides he was there, clutching his face and kissing him. Sebastian returned the kiss with a fervor, biting and clinging. Anders pushed him onto the bed and fitted himself between Sebastian’s thighs, their lips never breaking contact. It had been such a long time for the both of them. In a matter of minutes it was over. Sebastian’s robe was bunched up around his waist, Anders’s trousers were unbuckled. With a sigh, he shucked them completely off. “I used to be good at this,” he said.

“I’m a little rusty myself.” Sebastian grimaced as he sat up, his smalls sticky and uncomfortable, his robes falling back to cover toned legs.

“Come on, I’ve got a tub. Let’s get cleaned up.”

Anders pulled the tub out from underneath a table and with a little magic filled it with warm water. Sebastian let out a laugh of delight as he came near, watching in fascination as the tub filled itself. “Not so scary, is it?” Anders teased.

“I was never afraid of magic, but I admit I haven’t given much thought to its uses outside of battle or healing.”

“Well, when you spend your life locked in a tower, you get inventive. My particular favorite was the grease spell.” Anders threw the priest a lecherous grin as he pulled off the rest of his clothes.

Sebastian seemed to suddenly remember his shyness now that the fires had cooled. There was a blush high on his cheeks and he clung to his robes, but his eyes remained riveted to Anders’s nude form. He knew Sebastian was hardly a virgin, but there was something about this newfound timidity that fanned the fires and sent heat snaking through his body. He moved like a predator, leaning down to kiss and suck at his neck. Sebastian’s hands flew up to cup the back of his head, holding him there, while Anders tugged on his robe. They pooled at his feet, followed swiftly by his smalls. Sebastian’s body was just as perfect and pretty as his face. Not at all like Anders, who was too tall and thin and gangly.

They settled into the tub, their knees bumping. Sebastian sank low in the water, the ripples beating his chin, just below his mouth. There was a spark of mischief in his blue eyes. “So, about that grease spell you were telling me about…”

Anders grinned as he grasped hold of the priest’s squirming legs, moving them up and out of the way so he can press in close. His hand creeped up the inside of his thigh, moving down to rub against his hole. Sebastian gasped at the pressure. Anders grinned and whispered spells against his lips. He loved the way Sebastian squirmed as he pressed inside, coaxing his body into yielding to him. One calloused brown hand shot up to reach behind his head and grasp the edge of the tub, the other still trapped between their bodies, water spilling out and onto the floor as Anders slipped in a second finger.

He pressed in deep, searching that tight heat as he stretched him. A keening cry was pulled from Sebastian’s throat and Anders could feel him clamp down hard on his fingers. The mage grinned into his neck as he nipped and sucked, drinking in the shudders and mewling gasps from the man beneath him. Sebastian was hard against his stomach and Anders couldn’t help but ground down against him, aching and desperate for relief. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

Anders quickly removed his fingers, twisting in the small tub and sending even more water splashing out onto the dirt floor as he positioned himself. He pushed in slowly, head thrown back as his cock was slowly enveloped. Sebastian was still tense and Anders rubbed his hip like a spooked horse, leaning down to kiss his bitten lips. It’s been years for him. Slowly, slowly, Sebastian relaxed and Anders slid in inch by agonizing inch until he was seated fully. He held still until he felt Sebastian move against him, squirming and writhing, desperate for relief but unable to get it. The tub had him pinned at the sides and Anders was like a rock on top of him, hard and unmoving.

Sebastian finally dug his heel into the small of Anders’s back. “Move,” he said, half-demanding, half-pleading.

Anders laughed. “As you command, my Prince,” he said, only half-teasing. He moved slowly at first, both of them re-learning what it felt like. Sebastian was like a vice, and the slow drag and pull sent sparks of shooting down his spine. He wasn’t going to last long and Sebastian… Sebastian looked beautiful, blissed out of his mind and begging so prettily. There was no way Anders was going to let a priest outlast him. He sped up, pounding out a punishing rhythm, and Sebastian actually shrieked and Anders loved it, he loved it, he wanted Sebastian to do it again. He grabbed his cock and Sebastian bucked hard, nearly throwing Anders off of him if he hadn’t of let go of the tub to wrap his arm around the mage’s neck and pull him in.

Pleasure exploded behind his eyes and Sebastian, already tight, squeezed down, his own orgasm crashing on him like a wave. They slumped against each other, Anders letting his weight rest on top of the priest, and he’d be worried about Sebastian drowning if there was any water left in the tub. Sebastian was shaking and pressing breathy little kisses against the side of his face. The mage pulled the Fade to him, letting his fire heat his skin to keep Sebastian warm in the chill air.

Finally, with a reluctant groan, he sat up, his cock slipping free. He looked down at Sebastian, at his legs thrown over the sides of the tub, his hole loose and swollen, cum leaking out and splattered across his chest. Gently, Anders helped eased his legs down and used the small puddle of water still left at the bottom of the tub to clean him off.

“I should get back. The Grand Cleric will wondering where I am,” Sebastian murmured as he stepped out of the tub, Anders’s fingers tight around his waist and he guided him back to his cot.

“Tell her you had to help Hawke rescue some orphans.”

They settled against each other and fell asleep, Anders’s face pressed into Sebastian’s shoulder, his long arms wrapped around the archer as though to keep him from slipping away.

In the early morning hours, Sebastian crept back to the Chantry, his robes still rumpled and sans smalls.

* * *

Anders bit his lip and tried to keep his eyes on his cards as Sebastian glanced over at him for the fifth time that night. He knew when this was all over – when Varric and Isabela would crawl upstairs, drunk, Merrill bedding down on the spare couch in Varric’s room, Aveline supporting Hawke as he stumbled back to his mansion, and Fenris practically skipping home because the man could drink like a fish – he knew that Sebastian would follow him down into Darktown and into his bed.

He wanted to reach over and touch him, trace the seam of his trousers with his fingertips, but Aveline lay between them like a mountain. Sebastian learned his lesson well. The first time they all got together like this after they started this… thing… Anders spent most of the night trying to grope him underneath the table and nearly gave the entire charade away.

There was something about Sebastian that made Anders feel wild and reckless. The mage had many secrets, but most of them were dangerous things. He lived in fear of anyone outside their group finding out about Justice or his involvement in the mage underground. The stress and terror hounded his dreams and bit at him during his day. But this thing with Sebastian was different. It was fun. No one knew Anders made the priest scream almost every night, begging for his mouth and fingers and cock.

“Hawke!” Sebastian chided, but there was a smile tugging at his lips.

Hawke was leaning over his shoulder, his lips almost brushing his ear, as he tried to get a better look at Sebastian’s cards.

Next to him, Varric rolled his eyes. “I’d tell them to just get with it and fuck already, but Hawke’ll need a hammer and chisel to peel Choir Boy’s pearly white smalls off,” he muttered.

The thought sent a jolt through Anders and he looked back at the pair, finally noticing that Hawke wasn’t just teasing Sebastian, he was flirting with him. And Sebastian was flirting back.

A sharp prick of jealousy filled him at the sight.

“I’m calling it in,” Anders announced as he stood up. “I’ve got patients I need to check on in the morning.”

Sebastian was quick to follow his cue. “And I’ve got prayers.”

“I’ll see you to the Chantry,” Hawke offered. He didn’t bother to look in Anders’s direction.

Sebastian laughed him off. “Thank you, but you stay and continue your game. I’ll be fine.” Hawke nodded and waved them off, before turning back to his cards.

As soon as they were clear of the Hanged Man, Anders reached out and let his fingers trail Sebastian’s waist. “I think Hawke was hoping you’d invited him in,” Anders whispered. “Liven up that bare little cell you sleep in.”

Sebastian leant into the touch. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hawke was just being friendly. You know how he worries about all of us.”

“He didn’t offer to walk me home and I live in Darktown.”

“Are you jealous?” Those blue eyes suddenly turned mirthful as he looked up at Anders.

That wild and reckless feeling overtook him again and Anders was pulling him into an alley, his lips pressing hard against every inch of his face. “Anders, what if someone sees?” Sebastian hissed.

“Who’s going to see? And so what if they do? They don’t know us. We’ll be as quiet as a couple of Chantry mice.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but allowed Anders to push him against the wall, one hand already snaking down the front of his trousers.


End file.
